Connecting Snow
by Tayausia
Summary: Iruka and Kakashi are nothing alike, they know and respect it.  But something about the winter months make them reconsider thier positions...  Yaoi, but no lemon, promise :   Right now, I'm just experimenting with FanFiction...


Iruka took a deep breath, fumbling with the papers in his arms. He plastered a fake smile on his lips, then opened the door and stepped out into the bitter cold air.

He walked quickly, his head down, occasionally waving politely at greeting passerbys. Looking up briefly, he surveyed the traffic of busy people at the street before him with a look of disapproval, then ducked into a quieter, more hidden side-street. Here, he removed his fake smile, not breaking a stride as he continued swiftly on. He watched the barely-trodden-on snow under his feet. He hated snow. He hated winter in general.

The next thing he knew, he was flying in the air, hurtling towards the cold ground. He landed hard, the impact scattering all of his papers. He looked up hesitantly to see who he had blowed over in his haste, and his face went instantly pale.

"I-Iruka-sensei," a black gloved hand offered itself to the man on the ground as a mask and pale hair eyed him curiously. "Are you alright?"

"Ah…" Iruka fought for words, his mind still catching up to the fact that he had just trampled over the Copy Nin himself…! "Ah! I'm sorry, Kakashi-sensei, I'm sorry!"

The Copy Nin's visible eye narrowed with confusion. "Maa… it's fine, Iruka-sensei, but that's not the answer to my question…"

After a moment's retarded hesitation, Iruka hurridly took the suspended hand and dragged himself to his feet, turnign bright red. "Uh, I'm sorry, yes, I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You dropped your papers…" the Copy Nin bent down and retrieved the papers that were attempting to blow away. Iruka turned even more red than before as he accepted them, still too slow to catch up to speed. "Are you in a hurry, Iruka-sensei?"

"Ah… yes… no, not really… well, kind of…"

"Yes? No? Maybe?" the Copy Nin chuckled at Iruka's stutters, who turned away, rubbing at the scar on his nose out of embarrased habit.

"I-uh… I have… teaching… it's cold out…"

"Maa… you should get back to your class before you catch cold," the Copy Nin said awkwardly, then turned with a slight wave that acted more as a salute and continued down the lonely street.

Iruka stared in confusion where his footsteps in the snow ended. "Damnit!" he said finally, slapping himself in the face. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" _Why am I so out of it? I woke up this way as well…_

He took a deep breath, then remembered—oh yes, he had class to attend!

He followed the quickly-fading footprints of the Copy Nin, feeling like he was going backwards as his toes mirrored the already plastered heels.

Iruka sneezed loudly over the sound of the screaming, excited kids. He hated winter, he really did…

He drained the last of his coffee, then gathered his fresh papers and followed the last student as she shyly ducked through the doorway into the snow.

The blast of cold air hit him like electricity. He thought it was cold inside the academy, but this was ridiculous! He sighed, sadly watching his misty breath as it faded. His shoes crunched against the snow as he walked down the street, his shoulders hunched. He looked up this time, walking much slower. His mind was a complete haze, he wasn't sure whether it was too full or too empty…

He almost passed by the side road that lead to the Memorial Stone when he stopped, lost in thought. By looking down the road he felt a tug at his heart… a little pull at his mind.

With a slight smile, he began down the road.

Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what to do.

He had nothing but a pile of papers in his hand… no flowers, nothing. And he had no idea what to say, either.

He stared at the grey stone, the engravings of all the names… he sought out the two names he was most familiar with…

A nostalgic smile crept up his face. He worked to keep back the horrible memories of flaming fur… dark, black aura… He sighed, kneeling down to place his fingers on the names.

"Thank you," he murmured, then stood and turned to leave. It was then that he noticed the figure leaning against the tree, face buried in a bright orange book. He looked up at Iruka with one eye—the other covered with a Konoha-Leaf headband.

At the sight of the Copy Nin, the teacher began to slowly turn red.

"Good morning," he said, folding the corner of the page to mark his spot.

"Ah… more like evening, right, Kakashi-sensei?" Iruka corrected in stutters.

Kakashi tucked away his book and stepped away from the tree, gazing at the sky. "Maa… already? I've been here longer than I expected…" He began in the direction of the grey stone. "Even so…" he seemed to be talking to himself now "I still have business to attend to…"

Not wanting to be a burden, Iruka called, "I'll see you around, Kakashi-sensei?"

"Yeah… and Iruka-sensei…" he handed the teacher a folded piece of cloth with a smile in his eye. Then he gave a slight wave and turned his back, as he had done earlier.

Iruka looked at the cloth in his hands, confused. A drop of water fell on it before his eyes, and he looked up at the sky, expecting the beginning of rain. It was cloudy and grey, but not raining at all—considering it was much too cold for rain…

Feeling his cheeks, Iruka discovered the tears he hadn't known he was crying. His face grew even redder as he quickly dried his cheeks. First, he ran into the Copy Nin (literally0, then the Copy Nin discovered him mourning over the past… not just mourning, either, crying! The Copy Nin surely must find him a fool.

Iruka sighed, beginning the long, cold walk to his home. That was the last of his reputation…

Behind him, the Copy Nin waited until the teacher left. He took a deep breath as his eyes immediately found the name he was looking for. After so many years of coming here, it was habit. Like how others bit their fingernails, Kakahsi came her to wallow in guilt.

It was all his fault, he knew. He envied the teacher. Surely it wasn't Iruka's fault he lost those dear to him. The kind teacher's heart was pure and fautless.

It was all his fault. And even though he's said it for more than ten years, the thought still made his eyes water.


End file.
